Nikola Tesla : Autobiography chapter 1 (person)

The progressive development of man is vitally dependent on invention. It
is the most important product of his creative brain. Its ultimate purpose
is the complete mastery of mind over the material world, the harnessing of
the forces of nature to human needs. This is the difficult task of the
inventor who is often misunderstood and unrewarded. But he finds ample
compensation in the pleasing exercises of his powers and in the knowledge
of being one of that exceptionally privileged class without whom the race
would have long ago perished in the bitter struggle against pitiless
elements. Speaking for myself, I have already had more than my full
measure of this exquisite enjoyment; so much, that for many years my life
was little short of continuous rapture. I am credited with being one of
the hardest workers and perhaps I am, if thought is the equivalent of
labour, for I have devoted to it almost all of my waking hours. But if
work is interpreted to be a definite performance in a specified time
according to a rigid rule, then I may be the worst of idlers.

Every effort under compulsion demands a sacrifice of life-energy. I never
paid such a price. On the contrary, I have thrived on my thoughts. In
attempting to give a connected and faithful account of my activities in
this story of my life, I must dwell, however reluctantly, on the
impressions of my youth and the circumstances and events which have been
instrumental in determining my career. Our first endeavours are purely
instinctive promptings of an imagination vivid and undisciplined. As we
grow older reason asserts itself and we become more and more systematic
and designing. But those early impulses, though not immediately
productive, are of the greatest moment and may shape our very destinies.
Indeed, I feel now that had I understood and cultivated instead of
suppressing them, I would have added substantial value to my bequest to
the world. But not until I had attained manhood did I realise that I was
an inventor.

This was due to a number of causes. In the first place I had a brother who
was gifted to an extraordinary degree; one of those rare phenomena of
mentality which biological investigation has failed to explain. His
premature death left my earth parents disconsolate. (I will explain my
remark about my "earth parents" later.) We owned a horse which had been
presented to us by a dear friend. It was a magnificent animal of Arabian
breed, possessed of almost human intelligence, and was cared for and
petted by the whole family, having on one occasion saved my dear father's
life under remarkable circumstances.

My father had been called one winter night to perform an urgent duty and
while crossing the mountains, infested by wolves, the horse became
frightened and ran away, throwing him violently to the ground. It arrived
home bleeding and exhausted, but after the alarm was sounded, immediately
dashed off again, returning to the spot, and before the searching party
were far on the way they were met by my father, who had recovered
consciousness and remounted, not realising that he had been lying in the
snow for several hours. This horse was responsible for my brother's
injuries from which he died. I witnessed the tragic scene and although so
many years have elapsed since, my visual impression of it has lost none of
its force. The recollection of his attainments made every effort of mine
seem dull in comparison. Anything I did that was creditable merely caused
my parents to feel their loss more keenly. So I grew up with little
confidence in myself.

But I was far from being considered a stupid boy, if I am to judge from an
incident of which I have still a strong remembrance. One day the Aldermen
were passing through a street where I was playing with other boys. The
oldest of these venerable gentlemen, a wealthy citizen, paused to give a
silver piece to each of us. Coming to me, he suddenly stopped and
commanded, "Look in my eyes." I met his gaze, my hand outstretched to
receive the much valued coin, when to my dismay, he said, "No, not much;
you can get nothing from me. You are too smart."

They used to tell a funny story about me. I had two old aunts with
wrinkled faces, one of them having two teeth protruding like the tusks of
an elephant, which she buried in my cheek every time she kissed me.
Nothing would scare me more then the prospects of being by these
affectionate, unattractive relatives. It happened that while being carried
in my mother's arms, they asked who was the prettier of the two. After
examining their faces intently, I answered thoughtfully, pointing to one
of them, "This here is not as ugly as the other."

Then again, I was intended from my very birth, for the clerical profession
and this thought constantly oppressed me. I longed to be an engineer, but
my father was inflexible. He was the son of an officer who served in the
army of the Great Napoleon and in common with his brother, professor of
mathematics in a prominent institution, had received a military education;
but, singularly enough, later embraced the clergy in which vocation he
achieved eminence. He was a very erudite man, a veritable natural
philosopher, poet and writer and his sermons were said to be as eloquent
as those of Abraham a-Sancta-Clara. He had a prodigious memory and
frequently recited at length from works in several languages. He often
remarked playfully that if some of the classics were lost he could restore
them. His style of writing was much admired. He penned sentences short and
terse and full of wit and satire. The humorous remarks he made were always
peculiar and characteristic. Just to illustrate, I may mention one or two
instances.

Among the help, there was a cross-eyed man called Mane, employed to do work
around the farm. He was chopping wood one day. As he swung the axe, my father,
who stood nearby and felt very uncomfortable, cautioned him, "For God's sake,
Mane, do not strike at what you are looking but at what you intend to hit."

On another occasion he was taking out for a drive, a friend who carelessly
permitted his costly fur coat to rub on the carriage wheel. My father reminded
him of it saying, "Pull in your coat; you are ruining my tire."

He had the odd habit of talking to himself and would often carry on an animated
conversation and indulge in heated argument, changing the tone of his voice. A
casual listener might have sworn that several people were in the room.

Although I must trace to my mother's influence whatever inventiveness I possess,
the training he gave me must have been helpful. It comprised all sorts of
exercises - as, guessing one another's thoughts, discovering the defects of some
form of expression, repeating long sentences or performing mental calculations.
These daily lessons were intended to strengthen memory and reason, and
especially to develop the critical sense, and were undoubtedly very beneficial.

My mother descended from one of the oldest families in the country and a line of
inventors. Both her father and grandfather originated numerous implements for
household, agricultural and other uses. She was a truly great woman, of rare
skill, courage and fortitude, who had braved the storms of life and passed
through many a trying experience. When she was sixteen, a virulent pestilence
swept the country. Her father was called away to administer the last sacraments
to the dying and during his absence she went alone to the assistance of a
neighbouring family who were stricken by the dread disease. She bathed, clothed
and laid out the bodies, decorating them with flowers according to the custom of
the country and when her father returned he found everything ready for a
Christian burial.

My mother was an inventor of the first order and would, I believe, have achieved
great things had she not been so remote from modern life and its multifold
opportunities. She invented and constructed all kinds of tools and devices and
wove the finest designs from thread which was spun by her. She even planted
seeds, raised the plants and separated the fibres herself. She worked
indefatigably, from break of day till late at night, and most of the wearing
apparel and furnishings of the home were the product of her hands. When she was
past sixty, her fingers were still nimble enough to tie three knots in an
eyelash.

There was another and still more important reason for my late awakening. In my
boyhood I suffered from a peculiar affliction due to the appearance of images,
often accompanied by strong flashes of light, which marred the sight of real
objects and interfered with my thoughts and action. They were pictures of things
and scenes which i had really seen, never of those imagined. When a word was
spoken to me the image of the object it designated would present itself vividly
to my vision and sometimes I was quite unable to distinguish weather what I saw
was tangible or not. This caused me great discomfort and anxiety. None of the
students of psychology or physiology whom i have consulted, could ever explain
satisfactorily these phenomenon. They seem to have been unique although I was
probably predisposed as I know that my brother experienced a similar trouble.
The theory I have formulated is that the images were the result of a reflex
action from the brain on the retina under great excitation. They certainly were
not hallucinations such as are produced in diseased and anguished minds, for in
other respects i was normal and composed. To give an idea of my distress,
suppose that I had witnessed a funeral or some such nerve-wracking spectacle.
The, inevitably, in the stillness of night, a vivid picture of the scene would
thrust itself before my eyes and persist despite all my efforts to banish it. If
my explanation is correct, it should be possible to project on a screen the
image of any object one conceives and make it visible. Such an advance would
revolutionise all human relations. I am convinced that this wonder can and will
be accomplished in time to come. I may add that I have devoted much thought to
the solution of the problem.

I have managed to reflect such a picture, which i have seen in my mind, to the
mind of another person, in another room. To free myself of these tormenting
appearances, I tried to concentrate my mind on something else I had seen, and in
this way I would often obtain temporary relief; but in order to get it I had to
conjure continuously new images. It was not long before I found that I had
exhausted all of those at my command; my 'reel' had run out as it were, because
I had seen little of the world -- only objects in my home and the immediate
surroundings. As I performed these mental operations for the second or third
time, in order to chase the appearances from my vision, the remedy gradually
lost all its force. Then I instinctively commenced to make excursions beyond the
limits of the small world of which I had knowledge, and I saw new scenes. These
were at first very blurred and indistinct, and would flit away when I tried to
concentrate my attention upon them. They gained in strength and distinctness and
finally assumed the concreteness of real things. I soon discovered that my best
comfort was attained if I simply went on in my vision further and further,
getting new impressions all the time, and so I began to travel; of course, in my
mind. Every night, (and sometimes during the day), when alone, I would start on
my journeys -- see new places, cities and countries; live there, meet people and
make friendships and acquaintances and, however unbelievable, it is a fact that
they were just as dear to me as those in actual life, and not a bit less intense
in their manifestations.

This I did constantly until I was about seventeen, when my thoughts turned
seriously to invention. Then I observed to my delight that i could visualise
with the greatest facility. I needed no models, drawings or experiments. I could
picture them all as real in my mind. Thus I have been led unconsciously to
evolve what I consider a new method of materialising inventive concepts and
ideas, which is radially opposite to the purely experimental and is in my
opinion ever so much more expeditious and efficient.

The moment one constructs a device to carry into practice a crude idea, he finds
himself unavoidably engrossed with the details of the apparatus. As he goes on
improving and reconstructing, his force of concentration diminishes and he loses
sight of the great underlying principle. Results may be obtained, but always at
the sacrifice of quality. My method is different. I do not rush into actual
work. When I get an idea, I start at once building it up in my imagination. I
change the construction, make improvements and operate the device in my mind. It
is absolutely immaterial to me whether I run my turbine in thought or test it in
my shop. I even note if it is out of balance. There is no difference whatever;
the results are the same. In this way I am able to rapidly develop and perfect a
conception without touching anything. When I have gone so far as to embody in
the invention every possible improvement I can think of and see no fault
anywhere, I put into concrete form this final product of my brain. Invariably my
device works as I conceived that it should, and the experiment comes out exactly
as I planned it. In twenty years there has not been a single exception. Why
should it be otherwise? Engineering, electrical and mechanical, is positive in
results. There is scarcely a subject that cannot be examined beforehand, from
the available theoretical and practical data. The carrying out into practice of
a crude idea as is being generally done, is, I hold, nothing but a waste of
energy, money, and time.

My early affliction had however, another compensation. The incessant mental
exertion developed my powers of observation and enabled me to discover a truth
of great importance. I had noted that the appearance of images was always
preceded by actual vision of scenes under peculiar and generally very
exceptional conditions, and I was impelled on each occasion to locate the
original impulse. After a while this effort grew to be almost automatic and I
gained great facility in connecting cause and effect. Soon I became aware, to my
surprise, that every thought I conceived was suggested by an external
impression. Not only this but all my actions were prompted in a similar way. In
the course of time it became perfectly evident to me that I was merely an
automation endowed with power OF MOVEMENT RESPONDING TO THE STIMULI OF THE SENSE
ORGANS AND THINKING AND ACTING ACCORDINGLY. The practical result of this was the
art of teleautomatics which has been so far carried out only in an imperfect
manner. Its latent possibilities will, however be eventually shown. I have been
years planning self-controlled automata and believe that mechanisms can be
produced which will act as if possessed of reason, to a limited degree, and will
create a revolution in many commercial and industrial departments. I was about
twelve years of age when I first succeeded in banishing an image from my vision
by wilful effort, but I never had any control over the flashes of light to which
I have referred. They were, perhaps, my strangest and most inexplicable
experience. They usually occurred when I found myself in a dangerous or
distressing situations or when i was greatly exhilarated. In some instances i
have seen all the air around me filled with tongues of living flame. Their
intensity, instead of diminishing, increased with time and seemingly attained a
maximum when I was about twenty-five years old.

While in Paris in 1883, a prominent French manufacturer sent me an invitation to
a shooting expedition which I accepted. I had been long confined to the factory
and the fresh air had a wonderfully invigorating effect on me. On my return to
the city that night, I felt a positive sensation that my brain had caught fire.
I was a light as though a small sun was located in it and I passed the whole
night applying cold compressions to my tortured head. Finally the flashes
diminished in frequency and force but it took more than three weeks before they
wholly subsided. When a second invitation was extended to me, my answer was an
emphatic NO!

These luminous phenomena still manifest themselves from time to time, as when a
new idea opening up possibilities strikes me, but they are no longer exciting,
being of relatively small intensity. When I close my eyes I invariably observe
first, a background of very dark and uniform blue, not unlike the sky on a clear
but starless night. In a few seconds this field becomes animated with
innumerable scintillating flakes of green, arranged in several layers and
advancing towards me. Then there appears, to the right, a beautiful pattern of
two systems of parallel and closely spaced lines, at right angles to one
another, in all sorts of colours with yellow, green, and gold predominating.
Immediately thereafter, the lines grow brighter and the whole is thickly
sprinkled with dots of twinkling light. This picture moves slowly across the
field of vision and in about ten seconds vanishes on the left, leaving behind a
ground of rather unpleasant and inert grey until the second phase is reached.
Every time, before falling asleep, images of persons or objects flit before my
view. When I see them I know I am about to lose consciousness. If they are
absent and refuse to come, it means a sleepless night. To what an extent
imagination played in my early life, I may illustrate by another odd experience.

Like most children, I was fond of jumping and developed an intense desire to
support myself in the air. Occasionally a strong wind richly charged with oxygen
blew from the mountains, rendering my body light as cork and then I would leap
and float in space for a long time. It was a delightful sensation and my
disappointment was keen when later I undeceived myself. During that period I
contracted many strange likes, dislikes and habits, some of which I can trace to
external impressions while others are unaccountable. I had a violent aversion
against the earing of women, but other ornaments, as bracelets, pleased me more
or less according to design. The sight of a pearl would almost give me a fit,
but I was fascinated with the glitter of crystals or objects with sharp edges
and plane surfaces. I would not touch the hair of other people except, perhaps
at the point of a revolver. I would get a fever by looking at a peach and if a
piece of camphor was anywhere in the house it caused me the keenest discomfort.
Even now I am not insensible to some of these upsetting impulses. When I drop
little squares of paper in a dish filled with liquid, I always sense a peculiar
and awful taste in my mouth. I counted the steps in my walks and calculated the
cubical contents of soup plates, coffee cups and pieces of food, otherwise my
meal was unenjoyable. All repeated acts or operations I performed had to be
divisible by three and if I missed I felt impelled to do it all over again, even
if it took hours. Up to the age of eight years, my character was weak and
vacillating. I had neither courage or strength to form a firm resolve. My
feelings came in waves and surges and variated unceasingly between extremes. My
wishes were of consuming force and like the heads of the hydra, they multiplied.
I was oppressed by thoughts of pain in life and death and religious fear. I was
swayed by superstitious belief and lived in constant dread of the spirit of
evil, of ghosts and ogres and other unholy monsters of the dark. Then all at
once, there came a tremendous change which altered the course of my whole
existence.

Of all things I liked books best. My father had a large library and whenever I
could manage I tried to satisfy my passion for reading. He did not permit it and
would fly in a rage when he caught me in the act. He hid the candles when he
found that I was reading in secret. He did not want me to spoil my eyes. But I
obtained tallow, made the wicking and cast the sticks into tin forms, and every
night I would bush the keyhole and the cracks and read, often till dawn, when
all others slept and my mother started on her arduous daily task.

On one occasion I came across a novel entitled 'Aoafi,' (the son of Aba), a
Serbian translation of a well known Hungarian writer, Josika. This work somehow
awakened my dormant powers of will and I began to practice self-control. At
first my resolutions faded like snow in April, but in a little while I conquered
my weakness and felt a pleasure I never knew before -- that of doing as I
willed.

In the course of time this vigorous mental exercise became second to nature. At
the outset my wishes had to be subdued but gradually desire and will grew to be
identical. After years of such discipline I gained so complete a mastery over
myself that I toyed with passions which have meant destruction to some of the
strongest men. At a certain age I contracted a mania for gambling which greatly
worried my parents. To sit down to a game of cards was for me the quintessence
of pleasure. My father led an exemplary life and could not excuse the senseless
waste of my time and money in which I indulged. I had a strong resolve, but my
philosophy was bad. I would say to him, 'I can stop whenever I please, but it it
worth while to give up that which I would purchase with the joys of paradise?'
On frequent occasions he gave vent to his anger and contempt, but my mother was
different. She understood the character of men and knew that one's salvation
could only be brought about through his own efforts. One afternoon, I remember,
when I had lost all my money and was craving for a game, she came to me with a
roll of bills and said, 'Go and enjoy yourself. The sooner you lose all we
possess, the better it will be. I know that you will get over it.' She was
right. I conquered my passion then and there and only regretted that it had not
been a hundred times as strong. I not only vanquished but tore it from my heart
so as not to leave even a trace of desire.

Ever since that time I have been as indifferent to any form of gambling as to
picking teeth. During another period I smoked excessively, threatening to ruin
my health. Then my will asserted itself and I not only stopped but destroyed all
inclination. Long ago I suffered from heart trouble until I discovered that it
was due to the innocent cup of coffee I consumed every morning. I discontinued
at once, though I confess it was not an easy task. In this way I checked and
bridled other habits and passions, and have not only preserved my life but
derived an immense amount of satisfaction from what most men would consider
privation and sacrifice.

After finishing the studies at the Polytechnic Institute and University, I had a
complete nervous breakdown and while the malady lasted I observed many
phenomena, strange and unbelievable...